


No One Said I Was Smart When I Was Mad

by sweeneybearsam



Series: You're My Favorite Poison [3]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Drug Use, Heroin addiction, M/M, mack - Freeform, school yard scrap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 07:46:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2340605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweeneybearsam/pseuds/sweeneybearsam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another Poison!Verse ficlet. Matt fell off the wagon and copped to it to Rich-- who foolishly decides to take out his confusion and anger on Matthew's dealer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No One Said I Was Smart When I Was Mad

**Author's Note:**

> Keep in mind that the series this is part of is inspired by a HIGHLY NSFW, HIGHLY AU roleplay over on Tumblr. I'm very aware that Richard and Matt would never use this shit, nor would they condone it. This is simply for a creative challenge to explore different aspects of a couple that will never actually be real.

If he hadn’t been pulled over to text Matt, there would have been an accident as the text with the address came in.

Richard stared at it for a long second, memorizing it before going back through the messages from Matt before it. It was this weird mix of disappointment and heartbreak. How could Matt do this to himself? Again? He dropped his head back in frustration as he thought about Matt sneaking off, and felt a stab of pain as he realized how easily the younger man had lied to him. There had never been a time in the past six years that Rich had not been near insanity with the love he felt for Matt and to know he’d been betrayed like this stung.

His first impulse had been to drive to Matt’s house and beat the ever loving crap out of him. That one made him hate himself. He’d been there. The one to end up on the ground, horrified that the one person he’d trusted had turned on him because he messed up. He’d been the one to wonder what he could have done to avoid angering them again and the thought of putting Matt through that because of his temper made him sick.

So? 

The logical option then had been to go after the source of the problem—the lowlife that sold Matthew the drugs in the first place. Rich was going to end up hurt—he knew it. But this way he could get the frustration out and he wouldn’t end up hurting Matt.

Once his mind was made up, he was off. It was a lucky fact that this creep lived in the skeevy part of town, near where Rich had made drops for Ty before. It didn’t take long to arrive, parking and watching the apartment in question. This guy was a busy little bitch, people coming and going at a rate that was safe, but consistent. He had a plan, waiting for the perv in question to appear before he made his move. It didn’t take a genius to spot the man.

He looked to be a little older than Matt, with a calm, seemingly pleasant demeanor as he chatted with a young woman on the porch before heading to the sidewalk and calling over his shoulder that he was heading to a ‘meeting’. That was when Rich slid from his car, locking up and ditching his phone, heading after the so far nameless dirtbag.

He wasn’t much better, he knew. He was a dealer himself. The difference being that he only dealt to friends, and he never gave them anything that they would be hooked on—just something they could use for fun once in a while. More in the cases of himself, Matt and Bas. Still, he felt the rage building back up as he followed the guy, glad he was high and that he seemed to work best under stress channeling his inner Gabriel.

He rolled his shoulders as he got closer, feeling a calm wash over him. The dealer paused, turning to look at Rich, clearing his throat and offering him a brief smile before trying to step away. Rich was having none of that, stepping with him and narrowing his eyes. His voice was a deep, threatening growl as he came to a halt in front of the man. This guy was bigger, and no doubt stronger, but Rich was undeterred.

“Waiting for Matthew?”

The man’s face paled a bit as he looked at Richard, confusion registering first, then mild amusement and concern. He shook his head, shifting his stance and Rich worried for a second he might be packing—Ty did. His fears were dispelled as the man sidestepped, trying to put space between them as he smiled innocently at Rich, his voice making the older man bristle.

“Who?”

“Matthew. Matt. Tall guy, about five-eleven? Really pretty. Nice smile, big green eyes I promise you, you’ll never forget. Even though it might be in your best interest to try.”  
Then the man made his second worst mistake. His lips parted in a delighted grin, nodding brightly as he all but cooed to Rich in a tone that made his skin crawl.

“He’s such a handsome guy… how do you know good old Matty?”

"He’s my boyfriend, you prick."

"Well. That explains why he needs me around."

It was Richard’s turn to make a mistake. He was moving before he could tell himself to stop, shoving the man back and toppling them to the ground, both of them instantly struggling for control and Rich quickly losing. He was rewarded for his efforts with three well timed jabs to the face, leaving him dazed and spitting blood as he glared up, letting his body relax to disarm the dealer.

A taunt was made about how he should have come better prepared and then Rich let the part of his mind that defaulted to Archangel mode when he was high kick in, the adrenaline helping him get out from under this guy and landing a few savage blows of his own before they were in another ball of fast moving limbs, curses and blood.

They separated as someone shouted about the police coming, Richard winded and wounded as he limped off, holding his ribs. He had called a threat as he headed back to his car, forcing himself to get halfway back to his house before he had to pull over and take stock of the damage.

He had at least two broken ribs from the guy landing on him, scratches on his face, neck and shoulders, and his face was already bruising under the blood from his nose and his split lip. He was going to be sore for a while, but the point had been made, the anger had been worked off, and now he could focus on how to help his boyfriend. Well. After he slept for a year to relive himself of some of the blinding pain.

The things he was willing to do for that man…


End file.
